


Rodpunzel

by cutglasscaress



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Rapunzelish, Rodney never gets luscious locks, even in fairy tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19050460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutglasscaress/pseuds/cutglasscaress
Summary: Rodney was making the best of his captivity and not expecting to be rescued.  Certainly not by some moronic prince with ridiculous hair.





	Rodpunzel

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a couple of fics I read which of course I now can’t remember. I worry about my brain at times, then I forget there's a problem.

Rodney was avidly reading the ancient tome on, well, the Ancients, when the clanging against the windowsill made him nearly jump out of his skin. Attention shot, he bolted out of his seat and thrust his head out the window ready to regale the idiot below with all the vitriol he was capable of. He squeaked in dismay as the source of the metallic noise revealed itself in the form of a grapple hook narrowly missing the window ledge and, most importantly, his precious brain.

“Watch it, idiot!”

A dark fluffy head peered up from below. There was a dappled horse grazing lackadaisically in the shadows of the apple trees, looking as if this were an average day in the life of a prince’s stallion. For no doubt that was a handsome war horse right there, and the idiot with the grapple hook (unequivocally also handsome, dang it) some prince or other sent to save him from the tower, yada yada, whatever. The man was squinting up at him, still holding onto the rope and its murderous hook.

“Mmm, I thought Dr Meredith McKay was trapped in this tower. Must have taken a wrong turn.”

“I am he, but I don’t... Hey, no sniggering!” But the prince’s shoulders were shaking, and Rodney’s temper was flaring accordingly. “Oh, yes, so mature! Anyway, now you know, you can get lost and leave me in peace.”

Thoroughly pissed off he turned away from the window, stomped his way back to the comfy armchair, and grumpily settled himself ready to resume his reading.

“Oh, Meredith!”

The sing song call had just the right amount of teasing that made him wish he had a handy bucket of water to pour over his unwanted visitor and his ridiculous hair.

“Oh, that does it!” Rodney stormed back to the window. The prince was smiling up at him, and why were the handsome ones always the arseholes? “WHAT?”

“I’m sorry if I upset you” – looking not at all sorry – “but you are Meredith McKay of the McKay clan?”

Rodney rolled his eyes. If he had an ancient artefact for every time some nincompoop had asked him that....

“Yes, yes, as already established, I am he. And if you insist on interrupting my day, you will call me Rodney. Of course, I’d rather you didn’t call me at all, and made yourself scarce, but experience has shown me that several iterations of the same sentiment are necessary before the message gets through your thick skulls. Must be all the inbreeding.”

The prince lowered his head abruptly. Excellent, maybe this one got the message a little quicker. In Rodney’s experience anger would determine the next exchange, then wounded pride would drive the idiot away. On closer examination, though, the prince’s shoulders were again shaking, and a horrible noise was coming from him. Rodney was aghast. What the hell? Had he actually hurt someone’s feelings? In which case, he had no idea what to do and was beginning to panic. He watched with apprehension as the man finally stopped shuddering and lifted his head again and then he heaved a disgusted sigh as the prince wiped tears of mirth from his unfairly beautiful face. Today was certainly turning out to be a humdinger of a treat.

“Are you quite finished? Because I have more important things to do with my time than be a source of amusement to an empty headed lout like you.”

That at least elicited a scowl and a “Hey!”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you are practically a genius compared to others of your ilk. Nonetheless, I don’t need rescuing, so go away!”

“Wait! Are you saying you’re here willingly?” – and at Rodney’s glare – “Hey, just asking. I was commissioned to find you and I’m sure your family must be pretty worried about you.”

Really? That didn’t sound like them. Sure, Jeannie was alright for a little sister, but his parents were so self involved it seemed really unlikely they’d even noticed ...

“Oh, you are such a liar!”

The horrid donkey like hee-hawing took him aback. Still, good to see the man was not altogether perfect.

“Ok, you got me, Rodney” – he smirked, and even that was attractive as all get out. Ugh! – “Your family didn’t send me” – not unexpected, but it still hurt – “But I did get a letter from a...” – he produced a crumpled sheet after much patting of pockets, confused frowning (making him look somewhat adorable and oh, god, this was bad, this was really _really_ bad!) and intricate deep delving into clothing that stretched the material in all kinds of interesting ways that left Rodney somewhat breathless and hot. Soooo bad! – “Ah-ha! A Dr Zelenka. Apparently you failed to send him your regular dose of ranting and raving – his words – and that got him worried.”

Ah, good ol’ Zelenka. Rodney missed him fiercely. Insulting complete strangers just wasn’t the same.

“So how did you find me?”

“Well” – dragging the word out in a lazy amused drawl – “I met another inbred who told me he came across you a couple of months back. You might remember him?”

“Am I supposed to remember every idiot who approaches me?” Although not many had, not that he was bitter about that at all.

“I think you’d remember this one. The dreadlocks are the least feature to stand out.”

_Oh_ , oh, yes, he remembered that one. His booming voice had jolted him just as he was in the middle of a really delicate phase of his experiment. Rodney had stormed to the window and shouted abuse until he was hoarse. While still panting with anger and exertion he had eventually taken in the incredibly tall and frankly extremely intimidating individual at the foot of the tower who had not uttered a word throughout. The inscrutable stare had been rather unnerving however. He was just beginning to wonder if his prison would be enough to shield him from harm, when the man had climbed back onto his horse and ridden off.

“Uhm, yes, I think I vaguely recall someone like that. So what did he say to you?”

“He’s not given to much talking, that one. Just gave me directions and told me I’d find what I was looking for.”

“Really?” – Rodney’s venomous tone shot out – “Don’t think I don’t know how you all see me. I may be trapped in a tower, but I’m not stupid. Admit it, you are just here to gawp at the oddball.”

“Hey” – the prince’s tone softened – “that’s not... I didn’t come here to gawp at you.”

Oh, lord, he looked ... genuine. Rodney didn’t know how to deal with genuine. Or you know, with people in general. He kept looking down at the prince while mophead looked up at him. Neither of them spoke, while the most awkward silence stretched on for what felt like forever.  

The prince rallied first. “Where are my manners?” – a courtly bow followed, of all things – “I am John of the kingdom of Atlantis. May I join you?”

Oh, what the hell? He couldn’t concentrate on his work _now_.

 

****

 

John had been unsurprisingly agile as he scampered up the side of the tower. Rodney had been tempted to watch his whole ascent, but the view had proved a bit too much for him. Anyway, he didn’t want John to see him ogling.

Instead he got busy making coffee, so by time John slipped gracefully into Rodney’s room he found him calmly seated and enjoying his drink as if royalty popping into his chambers was a daily occurrence. John slouched into the opposite seat, looking for all the world as if he climbed towers every day ending in y. Maybe he did, rescuing beautiful youths and damsels who threw themselves at him in lustful gratitude. The hussies.

John sipped his freshly poured coffee, humming with pleasure at the taste and showing his appreciation with a lazy smile. Rodney tried to concentrate on his own cup, and his own appreciative moan, which was definitely all about the rich roast. He may be a prisoner here but he was damned if he wasn’t going to demand the best coffee the continent could offer. Small price to pay for the toils of his genius mind.

Rodney was never one for small talk and John was still dunking a blueberry muffin into his coffee (heretic!) by the time Rodney had finished with his kidnapping tale.

“Sooooo, let me get this straight. This witch abducted you because she hopes you can get these” – pointing at odds and ends of uncertain but definitely alien origin – “to work. She thinks this new source of power will... what? Make her win the Best Witch Award or something?”

“Laugh it up, pretty boy” – he watched John mouth ‘pretty boy’ with a grin – “but this stuff is the real deal. And in her defence she may be a witch, but she’s also a very learned doctor.”

“Mmm, Dr Witch doesn’t quite have the right ring to it.”

“... and I should know, I’ve been hunting these artefacts all my adult life.”

And then foolishly showed her when she ‘happened’ to visit the neighbourhood. What can he say? She was pretty and interested in his research, two attributes sadly lacking in the rest of the population. He should have known there was a catch. There’s always a catch. He eyed John suspiciously.

“Waht?” Ok, so still handsome even with his mouth full of muffin. Good to know.

“So you didn’t come to my rescue because you are interested in my research.”

John looked around as if for the first time noticing the absolute jumble of assorted bits and bobs, then turned back to Rodney. “Nope.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

John rolled his eyes, placed his cup down carefully on the saucer, languidly levered himself out of the seat and picked up the first object that came to hand. It lit up like a firefly.

Rodney managed to drop his cup in the general direction of the table, just missing its edge by sheer chance.

“How?.... How are you doing that? I can’t get it to do that!” And, ok, he sounded petulant even to his own ears, but really!

“Always could.”

“What? You’ve done this before?”

“Rodney” – and, yes, there was definitely a teasing tone there – “You’re a collector, you must know most of them come from Atlantis.”

Ok, fair. He forgot in all the excitement. Rodney didn’t travel much. He didn’t like to travel. All that bumping and jolting wasn’t good for his back. Instead he engaged the services of tradesmen who didn’t mind getting their bones rattled for a good fee and were more familiar with bargaining and such like.

John was talking again, but Rodney couldn’t concentrate on his words, lost in the fantasy of John and Rodney discovering the secrets of the universe.

Rodney grabbed another item. “Touch this!” – and at John’s less than enthusiastic response – “Go on! Touch it!”

“Gee, buy me dinner first, why don’t you.” John drawled, thankfully turning his attention to the piece while Rodney’s face flamed. Sure enough the room was suffused with lights and colours. “Wonder what it does.” And just like that, windows of data appeared in mid air.

Rodney was in his element, darting here and there, grabbing other artefacts, making hurried notes, telling John to touch this other one, this one, this, _this_.

“Rodney, it’s getting dark, my horse has probably gorged itself on your apples and is in a sugar coma as we speak, and you still haven’t told me if you want to be rescued.”

Rodney paused for the first time in hours. He sat suddenly, grabbed a muffin from the basket (she did feed him well) and stuffed it into his mouth in three famished bites.

He noticed John watching him in amused silence as he wiped away bits of muffin, then he gave up and just licked his fingers. He could sense John’s stare so he looked up with a defiant scowl, nimble digits still in his mouth, ready to defend his table manners (those things tend to become lax when you live alone, ok?). John’s eyes were riveted to his mouth, his tongue lapping his own lips and leaving them looking plusher than ever. Oh, he was so screwed!

Rodney scrambled to grab another muffin, unsure what that look meant. Clearly he was suffering from low blood sugar. He should keep an eye on that, and not on John’s lips. He set his mind to the logistics of how much of this treasure they could take with them – seeing as most of it was his anyway and taking what Sam had found seemed only fitting – when he remembered he couldn’t leave the tower. Suddenly the muffin tasted like ash.

He was distantly aware John was talking to him. “Hey, what is it?”

“Oh” – Rodney pulled up his right ankle and laid it across his left knee, gesturing vaguely with his half eaten muffin at the bracelet there – “so Sam came across a pretty useful device. She warned me not to attempt to leave the tower, so of course I tried the first chance I got. Had a really excellent rope made from these hair-like filaments” – he grabbed some and waved them under John’s nose – “see how tough yet thin and flexible they are? I think they might have been used...”

“Escape, Rodney?”

“Oh, yes, uhm... anyway, I remember swinging the leg over the balcony and next thing I knew I was lying on the floor and it was the next day. And I can tell you, sleeping on a hard floor was hell on my back for the rest of the week.” And as he watched John’s speculative look – “No, you are not levering me out unconscious! What if I never wake up?”

John had slid onto the arm of Rodney’s chair to better examine the bracelet, and now he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I heard tell that a kiss can break a sleeping spell.”

Rodney’s brain froze for a moment before rational thought reasserted itself. “Yes, well, I’d rather not rely on some fairy tale promulgated by one of the inbreds, thank you very much.”

Rodney gave the contraption a baleful glare then he shouted “Ohmygod!” and jumped up so quickly he almost whacked John off his perch. He turned to him gesticulating wildly and showering him with muffin crumbs, hopping on one leg while stretching the other in John’s direction and pointing. John glanced from Rodney’s leg to his face, an enquiring look quickly morphing to worry.

“Get it off, get it off! Touch it, touch it!”

John grabbed Rodney’s flailing limb, placing his hand on the device while muttering “there’d better be wine too”. There was the light show and a click, and the device opened and fell off Rodney’s ankle. Rodney stared, almost unable to believe that it had been so easy, then he whooped and threw himself at John, so elated he forgot he didn’t do hugs, or that he still held a mangled muffin. Clearly surprised at first, John was soon hugging back, and to hell with what his parents said, hugging felt really good.

 

****

 

“Sure you have everything you want? I think we left the kitchen sink behind.”

“Oh, hardy har!” Rodney tied the last bundle to Pegasus’ saddle, earning him a long suffering snort from the beast. They would have to walk to the next village, but it was totally worth it with the treasure they were carrying.

“Best get a move on. We don’t want to be around when the witch doctor comes back.”

Rodney agreed and cast a wary look behind him at the tower, although he couldn’t help wishing he could see the look on Sam’s face when she returned.

“So how many miles was it again?” Rodney was already fidgeting. He couldn’t help it, he was not a patient man. The village inn with its cooked food and a comfortable bed were calling to him.

“Relax, Rodney. It’s less than two hours away, you’ll make it.”

“It’s not that. I need something to keep my mind busy and I’m not very big on small talk. Maybe you could touch...”

“3275”

“What?”

“Prime or not prime?”

Rodney gaped, for once in his life at a loss for words. Beautiful charming princes were not hard to find, but added brains and a magic touch were the stuff of dreams.

“Not prime.” He mumbled in a daze.

“Right, your turn.” John’s smirk was full of cheeky challenge.

“Oh, you’re on! 7823”

“Prime.”

The path was narrow and would just allow all three to walk abreast, if you didn’t mind brushing shoulders. The woods on either side seemed to cut off the rest of the world, filled only with Rodney’s excited voice and John’s easy drawl, and interspersed with the occasional huff from Pegasus. Time flew by all too quickly and before he thought it was possible the first dwellings were in sight.

Rodney’s good mood evaporated. This was likely also the end of the road for them. John had done his bit and rescued him, after all, it’s not as if there weren’t new adventures out there waiting for him. John bumped his shoulder, playful eyes watching him closely.

“You know” – he started faux conversationally – “if you really are as serious a collector as you claim you should come to Atlantis. Plenty of space at the palace to continue your research.” And when Rodney just stared at him, he added in a very suggestive whisper “Think of all the things we could do.”

“Well” – that came out a lot more squeaky than Rodney intended – “that sounds ... yes, I mean yes!”

John’s crooked smile seemed to mirror his own, and Rodney’s heart had never felt so full. John casually slipped his hand into his and together they resumed their walk.

Oh, and Zelenka was so getting a huge gift basket!

 

 


End file.
